Water's Edge
by saberivojo
Summary: Baltimore's heat is like trying to breathe underwater. What happens when the boys try to cool off? This is based on Loch Raven Reservoir in Baltimore. It is real. So is the swimming and "other activities" mentioned. None of them are legal.


Title: Water's Edge  
>Rating: PG 13 for language<br>Warnings**:** Some unsavory language  
>Summary: Baltimore's heat is like trying to breathe underwater . This is based on Loch Raven Reservoir in Baltimore. It is real. So is the swimming and "other activities" mentioned. None of them are legal<p>

_It's like 100 degrees outside. Dean is sitting on the front stoop, his t-shirt plastered to his chest like glue. At least the Coke he's drinking is cold.

From around the corner, Dean can see Lenny coming up the street. The older boy is laughing as he gracefully pulls Mark under his arm and gives him a slight punch. Mark takes the punch affably and bumps into Davey. For a moment Dean thinks they might all topple over as they list toward the street but Davey braces himself against a parked car and the domino effect is avoided. They never stop their forward momentum, though, still heading way toward him en masse.

"Hey, Winchester." Lenny drops his arm from around Mark and heads up to Dean. "Hotter n' hell, huh?"

Lenny looks as sweaty as Dean, his dark hair curling at the base of his neck.

Dean nods. He's been in hotter places in the summer. Arizona's like living in an oven, but Baltimore's heat is like trying to breathe underwater. Everything on him is wet and sweat slicked.

He thinks if he had his druthers he'd choose the oven.

"We're goin' swimming. Wanna come?"

"Where?" Dean doesn't know a lot about this city, but in this section of town, at least, there aren't any pools.

"The reservoir," Davey pipes up.

"Shhh, dickhead." That's Mark. "Ya want the whole neighborhood to hear?"

"Reservoir? " Dean cocks his head in Lenny's direction, one brow arched. "You swim in the water you drink?"

Lenny laughs. "Dude, fish swim in the water we drink. At least I don't take a dump in it."

Dean laughs too. Lenny has a point. "Aren't they usually posted off limits or something?"

Lenny laughs some more. "Hell, yeah. There're signs all over the place. But the PD have their hands busy with raping and pillaging and the gun and knife club. As long as we don't drown our asses, they ain't gonna care. So…?"

Dean considers it. Dad was pretty clear about staying near the house, and if he comes back and Dean and Sammy are gone, there's gonna be hell to pay. It isn't likely, though; Dad's on a hunt that Dean is pretty sure is going to take more than a day or two. He should be home tomorrow at the earliest, Dean figures.

The sun is beating down on his face even this early in the morning. He swears he's gotten more freckles just sitting on this damn stoop. Even the bottle of Coke has warmed up in the past few minutes.

"My brother. I'm watchin' my brother."

"What, the little dude? Stan or something, right?"

"Uh, Sam. His name is Sam."

"Bring him along." Lenny turns, spits into the gutter.

Mark turns to Lenny. "Dude, we don't need a little kid hanging around. He might do something stupid, like drown or whatever."

"He can swim, right?" Lenny queries.

Dean nods. "Yeah, the kid's part fish."

"So what's the problem, Winchester? Don't tell me you're afraid of breakin' the law. Swimming in a posted no-swimming zone. Ooooo." Lenny leers just a bit.

Dean barks a laugh. If only Lenny knew the laws that Winchesters break on a routine basis.

"So?" There's a challenge in Lenny's tone. Yeah, Dean thinks he is being played, but if he is, it's a game that Lenny DeMarco isn't gonna win.

"Gimme a minute." Dean stands, wipes his sweaty palms down his jeans and turns. He trots up the steps, opens the screen door and steps into the row house.

"Hey, SAMMY!" Dean bellows from the narrow living room.

Sam peers around from the kitchen. "Dean, I'm right here." He squints in Dean's direction, hair spilling wetly onto his forehead. "What's your problem?"

"C'mon, we're goin' swimming."

Sam tilts his head, still giving Dean a baleful look. "Swimming? Where are we going swimming?"

"Reservoir, with Lenny and the boys."

Sam snorts. "Lenny's an idiot. Why do you want to go swimming with him and his bunch of juvenile delinquents?"

"Cause it's a hundred degrees outside and this house is a hell hole."

"Dad said to stay."

"Since when do you ever listen to Dad? Besides, he's not here and he's not gonna be here anytime soon. "

"You go. I'm gonna stay here and read." Sam turns back into the kitchen, and Dean hears him skitter a chair across the cracked linoleum.

"Sam. C'mon, I can't go without you."

"Forget it, Dean. Dad's already pissed at me, and I'm sick of PT and KP and all the other acronyms related to his dumb Marine punishment."

Sam has a point – Dad's been all over him like white on rice lately – but Dean just grins.

"Dude, I got your back. C'mon. I'll tell him I forced you or whatever."

Sam sighs and Dean knows he has him.

"Okay. Lemme change into cut offs." Dean nods and then decides to do the same. Neither of them has swimming trunks, why bother when old jeans will do?

They're outside in a flash. Lenny is lounging against somebody's car, cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"Hey, Stan. Glad you decided to come." Lenny sounds a little too cheerful, but Dean attributes it to his brain turning to mush in the heat.

"It's Sam." Sam murmurs quietly but clearly.

"Got it." Lenny waits a two beat. "_Sam._" Lenny looks at Sam quickly, his eyes hooded just a bit and then he reverts back to his regular good humor.

For the first time, Dean wonders if this is really the best idea. It's not that he can't handle himself, or Sam or Lenny for that matter; it's just that Lenny is the cool kid. The big kid. And while he doesn't have an entourage, he certainly is a presence in this little section of Baltimore. As a rule, Dean avoids kids who make waves.

Dean smiles a bit to himself. _That is, unless I'm the one making them._

They're just swimming, he reminds himself. Getting out of this God-awful heat.

The older boys head off. Dean follows, Sam just behind him. Dean doesn't know this city but he's pretty good at orienting himself. Usually they train in woods and mountains, but Dad has drilled directions and paying attention to his surroundings for as long as Dean can remember. So Dean pays attention. They slide down an embankment of grass burned by the scorching July sun to a large drainage tunnel. It's big, huge in fact. Dean couldn't touch both sides of the tunnel if his arms were outstretched and the rounded ceiling is way over his head. Water flows through it, sluggish in the heat of the day. Dean can see the end of the tunnel. Not quite a pinprick, but it looks like it's a long way off.

The hunter in Dean tenses. He feels Sam do the same. They are going from bright to dark and that's never good.

Plus there are probably rats. Dean would rather face a poltergeist than a rat.

There are other things that favor tunnels too, things that Lenny, Mark and Davey have never met. But Dean's spidey senses are calm; there is no prickle of fear rising up his back.

Dean learned to trust himself long ago, so he steps out into the water confidently, just behind Lenny. The tunnel's a good 10 degrees cooler than outside and it feels good. As he walks, Dean can see the tags of kids who found the tunnel before him, bright splashes of color spray-painted along the inside of the drain.

Sam brushes up against him. It's almost as if his brother is using Dean to steady himself.

"Dean…" Sam whispers urgently.

"Dude, I know. It's just a tunnel. Chill, all right?" It's not quite an order but the meaning is clear. Dean can see the quick cock of Sam's head and can imagine the scowl, even in the darkened tunnel. He hip checks Sam a little roughly and Sam bumps into the tunnel's wet walls. He doesn't trip but Dean can hear a muffled "You fucknuckle" as Sam stops himself from falling into the water.

Up ahead, Lenny turns in the tunnel. "Tsk tsk, Sammy boy. Aren't you a little young to be cussin' like that?" Mark laughs and Davey too. All Dean can see of Lenny is white teeth, bared in the dim light of the tunnel. But they're almost through to the tunnel's opening so Dean lets it go. It pisses him off a little, the way that Lenny ribs Sam. Ragging on Sam is _his_ job. They step out into the sunlight again and then the boys head upstream through a heavily wooded area.

Dean feels better once they're through the tunnel. The woods smell familiar, far better than the city does. Deep woods scent always reminds Dean of Dad. He feels a quick pang when he realizes that his father would never approve of this foray.

Disobeying Dad is not something Dean does often, at least not where it counts. But he and Sam have been stuck in that row house for what feels like ages. Sometimes Dean just makes an executive decision, and to hell with the repercussions. Sometimes Dad agrees with him, other times he takes the hit. No matter, he has made the decision to swim, so swim it is.

They scramble up a steep bank and suddenly he can smell the water. Fresh water. Deep. Dean takes a deep breath and they step out of the tree line to the reservoir.

The reservoir is huge, a fresh water lake that's so wide that Dean wonders if he could swim its span. The water is clear. The sunlight catches on the surface and filters through the trees, creating dapples near the bank. The water's edge is thick with trees as far as Dean can see. There is no real bank at most places, just the trees butting up to the edge of the cool green water. It is…

"Awesome." Sam speaks quietly next to Dean. Dean agrees.

There are rocky cliffs too that jut up from the water. Granite, maybe; he's not sure. They look climbable even from Dean's vantage point. It would be cool, he figures. Climb up the cliff and jump into the water. It would be more than cool. It would be amazing.

The water laps quietly at the small, rocky beach. Water like glass and the forest all around. The place looks almost magical. But not in a way that feels skeevy to Dean. Just pristine and perfect.

Mark makes a whoop that annoys Dean more than he can say, pulls his shirt off, and throws it onto the bank. He runs splashing out into the water. It only takes a moment or two for him to start swimming. Davey follows Mark out with another howl of delight.

Lenny is pulling his shirt off and shimmying out of his jeans to reveal the boxers underneath. Dean drops his shirt on the beach and toes off his shoes. Sam follows suit. Dean sprints in and finds himself yelling almost as loudly as Mark. He turns to Sam, all smiles and impish, good-natured fun. Soon all five of them are swimming in the reservoir.

Dean can't believe how awesome the water is. The first foot or so and closer to the shore is a little warm but he can feel the coolness a little deeper down. He dives under and opens his eyes. The water is clear and the sandy bottom gently waved. He surfaces a little bit from Sam and spits a stream of water straight up into the air. Sam too seems to be enjoying the swim. His kid brother lays back into the cold water and floats. Dean can't say it's peaceful because Mark and Davey are carrying on like they are little kids but it is fun. Dean figures if Dad finds out and kills him for this, it will be worth it.

They play for a while, chicken fights where Sam is perched on Dean's shoulders and Davey on Lenny's. Mark is content to be the ref and it turns out he has his work cut out for him, because Dean and Sam are formidable in chicken fights. Sam might be small but he has the balance of a cat and the third time he knocks Davey off Lenny, Lenny finds himself losing his balance and going under too. Lenny surfaces and sputters, then pushes Sam hard off of Dean's shoulders. Totally not fair and a bitch move if there ever was one.

Sam has never been one to shut up when he feels wronged. He might be little but he gives no quarter.

"Dude?" Sam stands in the waist-deep water, shakes his head and lifts his arms, fists loosely clenched. It doesn't seem to bother him one bit that Lenny towers over him or that Lenny has got a good five years and 80 pounds on him. "What the fuck is your problem?" he demands.

"Again with the language, kid." For a moment it looks like Lenny might make a move on Sam. Dean is already moving toward him, ready to step up if he needs to. But Lenny doesn't do a damn thing.

"Hey, Winchester?" Lenny turns to Dean. "Chain up your pit bull, okay?"

Dean grabs Sam by the arm and almost gets a fist to his face for his troubles. "What's your problem, Sam? We _are_ playing chicken; people get pushed in the water. Deal with it."

Sam gives him the face. Pursed lips and sanctimonious glare. "He's a dick, Dean."

"Lighten up, Sammy."

"Yeah, lighten up, Sammy," Lenny mimics and laughs. He reaches to tousle Sam's hair but Sam is having none of it.

"He's the only one who gets to call me that." Sam stares hard at Lenny. He means it.

"Okayyyy. Whatever, kid." Lenny nods to Dean. "You up for some real fun, Winchester?"

"Depends what your idea of fun is, DeMarco," Dean replies. He dips under the water; shakes his head once, sending a spray shower out like a dog.

Lenny nods toward the cliffs. "Cliff jumping." Dean stands in the shallow water, his eyes following up the cliffs he noticed earlier. He can see the handholds as easy as if they were marked in red paint. There's a spot about ten feet up. Pussy diving for sure, but doable. There's another at maybe 25 feet, maybe mid-cliff. Dean can see that spot clearly too. Finally, almost 40 feet up, there's a flat outcropping. He can see the jagged edge of the cliff, and a small tree below it. He can almost calculate the amount of thrust he would need to clear the tree and the edge.

_Now, this? This is gonna be fun_.

"So, how 'bout it, Winchester?" Lenny smirks.

"Let's do it."

Sam, ever the voice of reason. "Dean, Dean." He whispers loud enough for Dean's ears only. "Cliff diving is not a good thing."

"Ah, Sam, you need to relax, have a little fun."

Sam's eyes darken. "Okay, I'll dive too."

"What, are you crazy? You stay here, Sam."

"Huh? No, I'm coming with you."

Dean thinks about it a minute. Keeping Sammy down in the reservoir means that Dean won't be with him. Taking him up the cliff puts him in a potentially dangerous position too. But at least Sam would be with him. That is the deciding factor.

"Well, ladies? Are you done gabbing about this or what?" Lenny starts to head off in the direction of the cliff.

"Okay, you can come, but no jumping for you." Dean's voice drops a notch and while at fifteen he can't quite put the growl in it that dad has, the tone is clear. Sam nods and both he and Dean swim toward the base of the cliff.

The climb up isn't hard at all. At the ten feet mark, Lenny stops, offering an open-handed invitation for Dean to go first. "Starting on the baby jump, eh, Lenny?"

Lenny smirks a bit. "Just a primer, Winchester. Even your baby brother could jump this."

Dean throws a quick but meaningful glance at Sam that in no uncertain terms is an order to stay. Sam sits back against a bit of outcropping a ways from the water. While he is clearly not happy about this, he nods.

Dean takes two steps back and then sails off the cliff into the water.

_Fuckin' awesome._

He surfaces quickly and swims to the bank. Lenny is already behind him, splashing down not far from where Dean landed.

Dean scrambles up the cliff face again. Meets Sam at the ten foot jump and then continues to climb up.

Lenny is right behind him and Sam. "How 'bout we skip mid-cliff and go straight to the top? Dare ya?" Lenny is taunting with just enough edge to get Dean's attention.

Dean shouldn't do this. He so shouldn't do this. But again with the challenge, and damn if that isn't a chink in Dean's armor. He nods and passes the 25-foot jump. The highest cliff that looks jumpable must be like forty feet high and damn, when he reaches the top, it looks like a long way down. Dean looks at the jump, trying to figure out how much effort it will take to jump safely. Not too bad, he figures, and the rush of jumping off a cliff this high will be pretty damn cool. He can still feel the thrill from the 10-foot outcropping. Still, he's not quite convinced.

Sam steps up to the edge, takes a look down at the cool green water.

"Dean. You cannot jump off this cliff. Dude, do NOT jump off this cliff."

Dean waggles an eyebrow at Sam. "Haven't you ever just said, what the fuck?"

Sam hmppfftts. "Whatever, dude. But I'm telling you, if I have to…"

Sam's voice is cut off as he's slammed from behind from Lenny. There is no teetering on the edge, no possibility of scrambling back to the safety of the rock face. Sam is pitched over the edge.

Jumping off a cliff is different than being pushed off a cliff. Dean watches as Sam spins, trying to twist himself in the air. He hits the water hard. Dean's first thought is to jump right after him, but the water is deep and he can't be sure where Sam is. He can't risk landing on his brother. Instinct takes over – _save Sam, save Sam_ – and he takes a running jump, making sure that he's going to be far away from where Sam landed.

He angles hard to the left instead of a straight shot. It's intentional; he needs to make sure he lands nowhere near where Sam would be. It takes a tremendous effort to clear both the jagged edge of the cliff face and the tree that has managed to grab a hold into a crevice on the cliff.

Dean feels the scrape as a branch slices down his back. There's a momentary feeling of flying, then the water is cold and dark. Dean feels the quick spike of pain as his scraped back is enveloped in water, a burning sensation that he actually welcomes. He's alive. He goes down deep; it feels like forever as he sinks into the reservoir. He's up a moment later, breathing a great gasping breath and searching for Sam.

"SAM!" Dean bellows, spinning in a circle treading water.

He sees Sam, face down in the water a few feet from where he is. A few strong strokes and he's at Sam's side, turning his brother over in the water.

Sam chokes, water pouring out of his mouth. _Thank God. Oh, thank God._ Dean cradles Sam's head and chin out of the water. He loops his arm behind Sam's head and strokes surely to the rocky bank. Sam's eyes flutter, his hair hanging wetly on his face. But he's breathing and right now that's all that Dean cares about. It doesn't take long for Dean to make it to the bank. He picks Sam up as soon as he reaches the sandy bottom and carries him the rest of the way.

Gently, so very gently, he lays Sam down just past the rocky beach under a huge tree. Quick triage.

"Sammy, you okay?" Dean reaches for the carotid, feels Sam's pulse sure and strong under his fingertips. He brushes Sam's hair out of his eyes, then runs his hand down Sam's ribs, quickly palpating for any breaks. He looks for any obvious contusions or injuries and takes a deep breath when Sam looks pretty good. "Anything hurt, Sam? "

"What happened? Sorry, Dean. Didn't mean to jump," Sam mumbles. "Water's hard."

"I think you just got the breath knocked out of you." Dean settles on his heels.

"I'll tell you what happened, you're a klutz!"

Dean swivels his head to see Lenny grinning and dripping wet. Whether he jumped from the 40-foot or one lower, Dean isn't sure and frankly couldn't care less. "What a dweeb, man! You should have seen your face!"

Dean stands, shaking so hard he can barely see. Two quick steps and he's in front of Lenny. He turns his body and allows his forward momentum to add impact to the slightly open handed punch, fingers relaxed and thumb outside of his fist. He doesn't go for the Lenny's chin or the sneering mouth but instead hits his throat hard and fast.

He doesn't want Lenny bleeding, he wants him incapacitated. Dean wants him down and out, he wants the threat _neutralized._

Tactically a throat punch can collapse a trachea. It is brutal and deadly. It is not a typical bar room brawl punch. There is fuckin' _intent_ in Dean's right arm and he doesn't care if Lenny never breathes again. No one ever, ever fucks with his little brother.

It works. Lenny drops like a swatted fly, hands grasping his throat, making huge gasps and struggling to breathe.

"You fuckin' shit." Dean steps in and kicks Lenny in the ribs. He is barefoot; it would be so much more satisfying if he had on steel toed boots. He reaches down, pulls Lenny's upper torso up and punches him in the face.

There is a satisfying crunch as Lenny's nose crumbles under the onslaught.

"Dean!" Sam has staggered to his feet; he stands shakily with one hand pressed against a tree trunk.

Through the red haze of anger Dean can barely hear his brother. There's just a blazing hum of white noise.

"DEAN!" There's a sharp retort in Sam's voice, a tone that is not to be fucked with and how in the hell an eleven-year old pulls it off, Dean doesn't know. But he stops just before another well-placed kick that might have collapsed one of Lenny's lungs.

Lenny is curled up on the beach, each breath a rasp, his nose bleeding all over the rocky ground. Must be a bitch, Dean figures, throat fucked up and not being able to breathe through your nose either.

Dean can see out of his peripheral vision, Mark and Davey splashing through the water on their way to see what happened.

He doesn't care about Mark and Davey, cares less about Lenny, so he heads back to Sam, sniffing water up his nose.

"C'mon, Sam. Let's get outta here."

Dean drops an arm around Sam. He pulls his brother in tight against his chest and arms. He isn't letting Sammy go. They make their way to their shirts and shoes. Throw them on and start walking back home.

Up the bank and into the woods. Dean doesn't even look back at Lenny and his crew. They will have to figure whatever shit they figure out on their own.

Sam slips his arm behind Dean's and Dean reacts with a sharp hiss. Sam pulls back to reveal a splash of red down his forearm. The blood is seeping through Dean's black t-shirt.

Sam stops, pulls up Dean's shirt and evaluates the deep slash mark down his back.

"Jesus, Dean. You're hurt."

"Snagged it on the tree on the way down to save your ass."

"My ass wouldna needed savin' if you had just listened to me for once. I told you Lenny was an idiot and now you have a sliced-open back to prove it."

"It's just a scratch."

"Looks like more than a scratch to me."

"That's 'cause you're a girl. You whine when you get a hangnail." Which isn't true but damn if Dean is gonna admit his back is killing him.

"Well, Dean. Dad might notice the bloody gouge running down the middle of your back."

That brings Dean up abruptly. He stops in his tracks. AWOL from the house. Swimming in the reservoir. Jumping off a cliff and almost getting Sammy killed. And a tree injury. Who the hell gets injured by a damn tree?

None of this bodes well for Dean. He might as well kiss his sorry ass good bye.

"I guess I'm in for it, huh?" It's matter of fact. Dean figures whatever punishment dad has in store, it won't be enough when you think of all the stupid shit he got into today.

"Well, I guess we just gotta make sure he doesn't find out, okay?"

Sam's voice is sure. For a little kid, he has balls.

There is quiet then, as they enter the tunnel. Dean listens to the splash of wet sneakers slogging though the water and once again enjoys the brief reprieve of heat.

For a moment he allows himself to think of Lenny and of the blinding rage that he felt when he realized that Sam could have been hurt. He should feel a little bad about leaving the kid bloody and struggling to breathe on the banks by the reservoir. Or at least, he should learn to be more careful. If he thinks that he could get in trouble for maybe beating the fuck out of Lenny DeMarco, he figures killing him would be worse. Dad would really blow a gasket if they had to leave in the middle of a hunt because Dean killed an asshole kid. He doesn't feel bad about it though. Not even a little bit. Dean chuffs quietly to himself. Besides, it will give the Baltimore City fire department a chance to try out their wilderness rescue skills.

"Hey, Dean?"

He and Sam step out of the tunnel and start the climb up the embankment, heading toward the city streets.

"Next time I say I wanna stay home and read, how 'bout you just leave me alone?"

Dean snorts. "Yeah, I shoulda listened to you. But you have to admit that reservoir was kind of fun. Up until the near death stuff."

"Yeah, it was kind of fun."

Sam stops, tugs on Dean's arm, his voice soft. "Thanks, Dean."

Dean quirks an eyebrow in Sam's direction. "What for? Almost killing you?"

"Nah, for the swim and for takin' me with you and for saving me. Thanks."

"That's okay. Now all you gotta do is save me from Dad. I think I got the better part of the deal."

Dean laughs, ruffles Sam's hair and they walk off down a city street, heading for home.

end

AN: if you are interested in cliff diving at Loch Raven see.com/watch and here.com/watch and here.com/watch Yes. People do this._


End file.
